Chapter 1

"Take us in, Captain."

The pristine sliver flagship turned towards the newly created Voidstream, an opening between two universes across several others. Although the majority was scattered through all of space and time, the fleet was still of impressive size.

"Scanning instruments indicate that the targeted universe is habitable – probably inhabited. There appears to be a massive source of energy located a few miles from the stream's edge; could be what we're looking for."

"Very good."

Forlorn General Taraan Goral gazed at the masses of empty space passing by the ship's ultraplastic windows. To think that the Crown could be so close, even after all the Forlorn had been through – some of which had been his doing.

As a species, they were highly advanced, far beyond the level of the Thran or even the dreaded Phyrexians. Their natural passion for artifice led them not to create weapons, for they knew that no other species on their mostly barren planet posed a threat, but to develop great devices, entire mechanised cities and lately a space fleet. The crowning achievement had come when Taraan himself had discovered the Spark, that which allowed travel between universes, lurking deep in his own heart.

For twenty years, Taraan had investigated ways of activating his spark, for even among those rare mortals who possess it, few are lucky enough to gain its full benefit. It fully activated during a future-trance in which Taraan saw the destruction of the Homeworld. The grief that came with seeing his entire species lost brought out the shining light and he resolved that he would use this new power to avert this catastrophe.

It turned out that the fleet that he had ordered to be constructed may have been the cause of the catastrophe.

Taraan became the leader of the Forlorn after he was able to demonstrate his planeswalking ability, bringing back new materials and technologies for them to use. He trusted a few of his most loyal rockmage bodyguards with the knowledge of his vision and began creating a grand space fleet that would allow the Forlorn to move into other universes. Taraan became the first mortal being to understand the nature of the Spark and he alone saw a way of recreating its planeswalking effects artificially. The collision of all five types of mana would set up harmonics in the layers of each universe and open a path between them. However, the only source of mana large enough for this purpose available to the Forlorn was in the heart of the Homeworld.

Taraan's advisors claimed that there was no risk of permanent damage to the structure of the Homeworld – once the path had been opened, the mana could be regenerated and returned to its heart. Even though he trusted them, Taraan knew that removing the mana from a world, even if only for a few moments, would have a weakening effect. When the generators were fired up on the Atora for the first time the resulting mana explosion had scattered the Forlorn, potentially across both time and parallel universes. Quick thinking by Taraan led to the rapidly dispersing mana being gathered and kept in the Atora's storage fields before it spread too thin.

If seeing his world destroyed had broken Taraan's heart, knowing he had caused it tortured his soul. Now that his people could be anywhere in several realities, Taraan resolved to gather them again and find some way of returning to the Homeworld. It was only with later probing that the Forlorn discovered that the universal resonance had caused every version of the Homeworld in all realities to shatter into atoms.

But all that was in the past and now Taraan may have found a way to repent.

Passing through the stream, the universe seemed to blur and then resolidify. Some of the stars appeared to move, as one universe became several different ones in quick succession. The fleet pulled out of the end in the universe that they were heading for, quickly returning to formation as the Voidstream closed behind them.

"What is the nature of the entity you picked up, Captain Dajora?"

"It appears to be a powerful green-mana source, General."

"That complicates things. I was hoping for the Crown, but clearly that is now impossible."

"I apologise, lord. It is giving off similar radiation. It could well have similar capabilities."

The Crown of the Homeworld was given to the Forlorn's elected leader, although only before they had to wander the universes. It allowed the wearer to move between universes and control time to a small extent. Taraan had little use for it so it had resided in a museum on the Homeworld; now he cursed himself for not keeping it near. It could maybe have allowed him to undo his mistakes and save his planet. Now his race was doomed to seek it eternally in parallel universes where it might have survived. Possessing it may just allow the creation of a replacement Homeworld with the mana left in the Atora's fields.

"Very well. Take us towards it, preferably with stealth."

* * * * * * *

For those who were close to nature, the signs of the Forlorn's approach were obvious. The harmonic movement of mana is bound to disturb creatures not so distended from the flow of life as humanoids. Druids everywhere noticed a simultaneous silence and unusual cloud formations appeared in several places. A subtle change in winds went largely unnoticed, even though the air was being drawn straight upwards.

The being most in contact with nature was Lurast, a treefolk considered legendary for his healing sap and wonderful flowers. He would have spread the news to his protectors but the very reason he needed them stopped him: he had barely moved in several hundred years and had not spoken in millennia. Age had stricken him immobile but not unfeeling, for he literally was as old as the hills.

Lurast had the honour of being the first true creation of Shaia, the Creator of All. In the moments after her creation was complete, she combined his young consciousness with her own and became inseparable from him.

His thoughts moving at a rate far exceeding his actions, Lurast shared his observations with Shaia. She calmed him with gentle thoughts. Surely, a goddess of creation could not be worried by mere mana movements? She made him aware that whatever was causing the problem would be dealt with.

Shaia herself began to probe the fleet that she saw approaching. These were not of her creation. Clearly, some sort of infernal artifice was involved; their ugly metal contraptions paled next to her creation's living beauty. She was aware of their devices in turn exploring her capabilities – hah! No upstart race of worldslayers could comprehend the force of a god.

At some point in the future, Shaia would have her followers confront these wanderers. But for now, the work that had to be continued for her own survival had to be done.

She cast her mind out to her disciple.